The Original Boonie Babes

In a strip mall restaurant in Middle Tennessee, three Cubanitas sat for a 2-hour lunch this week. ¡Que Rico! It was energizing to sit with people who know The Cubano Code, speak perfect Spanglish and know exactly what you mean when you say “Cuban Mother.’’ Exactly-what-you-mean.

I was introduced to them via the Internet. A cousin of one of them lives in Miami, saw a mention of Los Pollitos on Babalu and called la prima in Tennessee to tell her to get in touch with the chick from the chicken tees. Isn’t that the way it always works? A cousin?

So, as we shared about everything from politics to breastfeeding, it hit me these ladies are pioneers in Boonie living. They grew up with a bunch of Cubans in Decatur, Ga. That’s in the ’60s and ’70s. They did quinceañeras and went to a club cubano. (It’s still there) That would be in the Atlanta area, folks. More than 30 years ago. It has to be proof that Cubans are bold and are, indeed, everywhere.

A friend of theirs, the storyteller and author Carmen Agra Deedy, captured the ride in her CD, Growing up Cuban in Decatur, Georgia. I’ve long been a fan of Deedy’s and I am here to tell you that if you haven’t heard her tell stories, you must. If my fuzzy memory serves, there’s a hilarious story on the disc about the time Deedy gave her mom some self-help books. Deedy’s mom then asked if she thought the Lord Jesus was co-dependent too.

Looking forward to the next lunch date. I’m voting for wine with our food to loosen the tongues. Anyone who grew up where they did, when they did surely have their own crazy, Boonie stories to tell.